All That's Best of Bright and Dark
by Nova802
Summary: A series of short vignettes of Puck and Rachel's childhood and youth. Puck's POV. My attempt to explain the whole slushie phenomena.
1. Puck at nine

**Author's Note: the story (particuarly the first two chapters) are inspired in part by WildIrishRose29's amazing story Lonely Heart's Club--Chapter 19, you know who you are!**

Puck is nine years old. He shivers a little bit. The September morning is crisp and he doesn't have a coat. He is scrunched down in the back of the parked car, his forehead pressed against the cool glass of the window, waiting for his mom to finish her Saturday morning shift.

"Where the hell is she? She better bring those fucking donuts." Puck's father says resentfully from the driver's seat. Puck glances sideways at his dad and says nothing. If Puck is quiet he'll probably just ignore him, but then again his dad is on his third beer, so maybe not.

He watches the people on the sidewalk. Old people, kids in strollers, _boring_. He wishes his mother would finish early for once, but Saturday is her busiest day.

"Son of a bitch! I can't believe who they let on the fucking street!" Pucks' dad mutters. Puck swings his head around to the other side of the street where his father is looking. Puck has learned to pay attention when his father uses that tone of voice. Just a girl, Puck thinks, a _little_ girl. She is wearing a fluffy white coat with a pink leotard underneath and carrying a pair of pink slippers. Her dark hair is carefully brushed into a shiny ponytail and she is hardly walking, more bouncing--like her feet only touch the ground every other step. She looks happy and clean and _loved_. Then Puck sees what set his dad off. Right behind her, two men, one black, one white are holding hands. As Puck watches, they each take a step forward, grab one of her hands and swing her high into the air. She squeals with laughter.

"Faggots!" says Puck's dad as he crumples his beer can and throws it into the back seat with the rest of the empties. Whatever, thinks Puck. If his father said the sky was blue, Puck would probably think green, but he doesn't say anything. Just watches as she disappears down the street.


	2. Puck at eleven

Puck is eleven. He has an end-of-summer tan that goes a long way towards hiding a lot of dirt and maybe a few bruises. His dark hair is a little long and he brushes it out of his eyes, as he slips through the park gate and crosses the almost empty Lima Parks and Rec parking lot at dusk.

His steps slow as he approaches the familiar car. He hadn't known his dad was back in town. "Hey!" yells his dad as he steps out of the car. "Look who's here to pick you up!"

"Hi, dad." says Puck warily. His dad seems o.k. right now, but he can turn quickly. "Where's Mom?"

His dad grips his shoulder, hard. Close up, Puck can smell booze on his breath. "That's all you've got for your old man after a month? I've been in Akron working my ass off to put food on the table and this is what I get?" Since Puck knows his mom sits up late at the kitchen table worrying over the bills, he highly doubts that, but he doesn't say anything. He starts casting around in his mind for something safe to say, but he's not fast enough.

"You little shit." his dad says flatly, grabbing Puck's upper arm. Puck twists, trying to get away, when they both hear a little noise--barely louder than a squeak. Someone is standing behind them at the gate. A dark-haired girl, a few years younger than Puck is watching the scene with big, scared, eyes. She is in swimming gear, with a little flowered cover-up and sandals and Puck thinks vaguely that the pool must be closing.

His dad spits on the ground and hisses, "Find your own way home..." With that, he gets back into the car and peels out of the parking lot.

Puck and the girl stand looking at each other in silence. "Rachel..." a voice calls from the other end of the parking lot. They both turn and Puck sees a man standing next to a car, waving. The girl waves back, but then turns back to Puck.

"Are you all right?" she asks, shakily.

Puck looks at her sullenly. "Mind your own business" he mutters.

"Rachel!" the man calls again, and she turns and runs lightly towards him, looking back once. Puck watches her go, watches the man--her _dad_, Puck tells himself, hug her and sweep her into the car. When she's completely gone, he lets out the breath he didn't even know he was holding and heads down the road to Finn's house.


	3. Puck at Thirteen

**Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews! This is my first story :)**

Puck is thirteen. He's had a growth spurt recently and the sleeves of his jacket don't quite reach his wrists--his mother laughs now when she has to look up at him. There are no bruises. He is on the school playground after school waiting for Finn so they can go play baseball. He leans up against the fence and surveys his domain, watching the younger kids without interest. A few of the 8th grade girls pass by and smile at him and he nods back at them with a little grin. Life is easy for him and he tells himself that it always has been.

At the bottom end of the playground a few of the 6th graders seem to be getting into it. He sees a shrieking circle of girls tossing around a pink backpack. Whatever.

Another group of 8th grade girls approach him. There is a whispered consultation and one of them is thrust by the others in his direction. Santana. Damn, she's hot. At the other end of the playground, Puck watches idly as a dark little head bobs in the center of the group trying to catch the backpack.

"Hey." says Santana.

"Hey" says Puck. She angles her body a little closer to him, but he can still see the group at the bottom of the playground.

"A group of us are going to the movies on Saturday afternoon. You and Finn should come too." Behind her, the entire group of girls was convulsed in giggles.

He shrugs and says "Maybe. We're supposed to be doing some stuff." He straightens up a little and says, "What's going on down there?" gesturing to the 6th graders.

Santana turns, looks and says with a little laugh, "That's just that little freak Rachel Berry." She takes another half step towards him and the girls erupt into giggles again. He glances over. Quinn Fabray is almost doubled over. "So, Saturday, the Majestic, 1:00" she says and with a flirtatious smile she heads back to the group.

But Puck is watching the sixth graders. The circle has parted and Puck sees someone new. Josh Holland now has the backpack high above his head. Standing in front of him with her hands on her hips is the little dark haired girl. What was it? Rachel?

What the hell is Holland doing here? Puck wonders. He's in high school now. Puck tries to decide if he should tell Holland to get the hell off _his_ playground. If anyone was going to terrorize the 6th graders in this school it would be him. Just then Holland drops the backpack and shoves the kid to the ground hard. Without thinking, Puck pushes himself off the fence and takes three steps, but just then the Assistant Principal arrives. The rest of the kids scatter and she gets up and gathers up her stuff and leaves. Puck can't tell from here if she is crying.

Finn shows up. They play baseball. Three days later, Puck picks a fight with Josh Holland at the park and beats the crap out of him. When his mom asks why all Puck can do is say "He's an asshole."


	4. Puck at fifteen

**Author's Note: The Byron reference from the title is in this chapter. Here's a fifteen year old Puck just for you Keiri :)**

Puck is fifteen. He is tall, wiry but strong. Girls do a lot more than just notice him now, but Puck has plans. He'll be 16 soon and he has his eyes on a used pick-up that someone up the street is selling. And he still has a couple years of high school, but the end is in sight. He is so going to be out of here.

Right now he needs money. He does landscaping. A stupid fancy word for mowing lawns, raking leaves and planting shit, but the money is o.k. and under the table. Maybe he'll start cleaning pools in the summer. He hears there's good money in that.

In mid-November, landscaping means cleaning out gutters for the morons who were too dumb to do it when the weather was still nice. He asks his mom's latest stupid boyfriend to drop him and his ladder off at the rich end of town Saturday morning and starts ringing doorbells. The work is wet, cold and messy, but by 4:00 he's up almost 200 dollars. He jumps up and down a few times to warm himself up, squints at the sun already sinking in the sky and decides that this will be his last house.

He blows on his hands to get the feeling back in his fingers and rings the bell. A dark-haired girl opens the door. The warmth and light from the house hit him like a blow. Music is playing in the background. Singing shit.

"Can I help you?" she asks. Her voice is soft. She has a blue dress with sparkly stuff on, like a party dress. Puck can't speak for a minute--the cold obviously. She waits.

"Rachel sweetheart, who is it?" Puck hears someone call from the back of the house. He swings into his pitch.

"I'll check with my dads," she says. Dads? Puck thinks, but she's already moving on "Normally, they handle routine maintenance." Huh? thinks Puck.

"Please come in, " she says, holding the door open wider. Puck steps into the front hall and she disappears into back of the house. He stands gingerly on the door mat, trying not to think about how dirty he is. He's been in fancier houses today, but this is...nice. Real paintings on the wall, some sort of good food smell coming from the kitchen, and the music was weirdly catchy.

She reappears with two guys both with shirts and ties--the dads, obviously. Puck gives an internal shrug and launches back into the pitch. They hesitate, a dinner party, but Puck says he can be quick. They look at Rachel, they look at each other, they look at him, they agree.

Puck is fast at his work and honestly, their gutters don't need that much work, but it is deep twilight by the time he finishes. He puts in a call to the stupid boyfriend for a ride and finishes tidying up. He rings again and the dad's praise the job and pay up. The girl brings him a cup of hot chocolate and he drinks it while sitting on the steps waiting for his ride. For some reason, they stand out on the steps with him. He hates small talk. Stupid turns up and they say goodbye.

As he finishes tying the ladder to the top of the car, he looks back at the house. Light shines from the windows and he can see through into the living room. She is dancing, being twirled by one of her dads, the edges of her party dress standing out. For just a second he wishes he were in there to hear if she is laughing.

Puck gets in, slams the car door shut and cranks up the music. It's just another house. He's been doing this shit all fall.


	5. Puck at seventeen

**Author's Note: I thought about throwing the description of Byron in here..."mad, bad and dangerous to know" but decided it was overkill :)**

Puck is seventeen. He is confident, cocky. He knows he's got the "dangerous" thing going on--it's always underneath, but he also knows he cultivates it to an extent. And why not? He's got girls, women even, tripping over themselves to get a piece of him. And he's got a best friend, Finn. He hasn't seen much of Finn lately, but still. He deliberately chooses not to think about the looks Finn's girlfriend has been shooting him--or the glances he's been sending back. He's got football--sure, pre-season was a disaster, but they're bound to improve. He's got Mom--when she's not a work or on a date with the asshole who came after Stupid. He's got his music, his guitar--but for some reason that only really happens when he is alone.

But whatever. Life is great. Puck strides down the school hallway, slushie in hand. People scatter in his wake. Up ahead, he sees some girl, a sophomore he thinks. Nice body, long, dark curls, weird clothes. She looks familiar and Puck remembers the Cheerios were wittering on about her at lunch yesterday. He prefers to appreciate the Cheerios on mute, so he doesn't really remember what they were saying. Something about singing? He'd spend a moment feeling sorry for anyone the Cheerios have their knife into, but really, he just can't be bothered.

He's closer now, she's at her locker, leaning in and the view is...interesting. As she closes her locker and heads towards him he decides that clearly it is his job to check out the talent at this school and he changes course slightly. She's looking down, organizing her books and Puck feels a flash of irritation. He wants to see her face, just to see if it in any way reaches the standard set by her ass. He moves in a little closer, subtly crowding her into the lockers.

She looks up at him as he approaches and they lock eyes. No recognition. She has no idea who he is. Which makes sense right? Because he has _never_ seen her before in his life. But still, shouldn't she know him, Puck, the god of McKinley High? Without pausing, without conscious decision, he throws the contents of the cup at her, soaking her.

Now she'll know who he is.

**Author's Note: O.K. maybe it is a stretch, but hear me out. In this story, Puck's drawn to her, he's had an emotional response whenever he sees her and that's scary, so he pushes her as far to the back of his mind as he can. Still when he sees her, he knows subconsciously that somehow there should be something (for the purposes of this story, this is the first time their eyes have met in high school)...and he's pissed when he doesn't see it from her. Hence the slushie phenomenon...**


End file.
